


2 Is The Loneliest Number

by sadhockeytrashbaby (aggressivelybicaptainamerica)



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: BDSM, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post Expansion, Rope Bondage, Sad Soft Boys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-22
Updated: 2017-11-22
Packaged: 2019-02-05 19:00:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12800334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aggressivelybicaptainamerica/pseuds/sadhockeytrashbaby
Summary: It had always been Flower’s job to keep a bratty Tanger in line, but Marc isn’t here anymore and Sid pretends he can’t see that Kris is falling apart.





	2 Is The Loneliest Number

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sea_salt_waves](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sea_salt_waves/gifts).



> So hockeygarterbelts constantly enables my MAF feels, so I wrote her a fic. Basically Erica is the best and I'm still not over Flower not being a Pen anymore.

It had always been Flower’s job to keep a bratty Tanger in line, but Marc isn’t here anymore and Sid pretends he can’t see that Kris is falling apart.

It works, at least for a little while.  But eventually the others begin to notice how tensely Kris is holding himself, how angry and irritated he is both on and off the ice.  Sid is robotically happy, and he has most people fooled, though he catches Geno leveling knowing looks at him when he thinks no one is watching.  It all comes to a bubbling head when Kris gets a ten minute misconduct fir a fight over nothing.   Sid is quietly furious, but there is nothing he can do until the game is over.

“What the fuck was that?” Sid snaps, shoving Kris into his stall after the abysmal 4-1 loss.  “Where’s your fucking discipline?”

“Apparently it’s in fucking Vegas for all you seem to care!” Kris hisses back, and Sid reels back like he’s been slapped, heart aching.

“You’re not the only one who lost something when Marc left,” Sid spits, voice low and rough.  “But at least I’ve been able to compartmentalize.”  All the fight goes out of Kris as he sags back, looking lost and sad and lonely.  Sid sighs and strokes his hand across Tanger’s cheek.

“Come over tonight,” Sid says softly, and Kris nods as he leans into the touch, unable to meet Sid’s eyes.

~ ~ ~

Sid, Kris and Marc had been together long enough that Sid knows what Kris needs.  Sid was a switch, though he tended towards submission, and so he sets out the spiked paddle and the scratchy black hemp rope that always made Sid’s skin itch.  There is the sudden sense memory of soft silk around his wrists and Sid has to swallow a whimper as he does his best to sink into the routine.  He’s still in his game day suit, letting the formal and familiar clothes settle over him like armor.

When Kris arrives, he’s stomping and aggressive.  Sid catalogues every slammed door and heavy step, finding the part of himself that he knew would be able to set this right.  By the time Kris slams open the bedroom door, Sid is ready and his only response is to raise a single eyebrow, face impassive.

“Strip and kneel at the foot of the bed.”

“Make me, you-“

“That was not a request,” Sid said sharply, determined to head off Kris’s stubbornness at the start.  “Now, or I will make you very sorry.”  Kris begins to obey with deliberate slowness, but if there is one aspect of domination that comes effortlessly to Sid, it’s patience, and soon Kris is slumped by the foot of the bed, trembling slightly.  Sid ruffles his hair.  It’s ostensibly praise, but Sid knows that Kris hates being babied and uses that to his advantage.

“There are two choices now,” Sid says, voice level and soft.  “You can obey.” He points to the coiled rope.  “Or you can be bad.”  He points to the paddle.

“I…I…”  Kris shudders as his head drops to the edge of the bed, and Sid has to fight to not go to his side and wipe away the tears that are beginning to roll down Kris’s face.  This is what he needs right now.  Kindness can come later.

“I’ll be good,” Kris whispers after a long, fraught silence, and Sid smiles.  He’s glad he’s not going to have to paddle Kris tonight.  He’s not sure he could take that much intensity, as fragile as they both are. He helps Kris stand and begins to tie the first knots of the harness.  With every knot he sees stress melt out of Kris’s body, and matching knots untie in Sid’s chest.

“That’s it love,” Sid soothes, letting himself be gentle as he strokes his hands down the intricate loops and twists of ropes.  Sid notices that Kris has chubbed up, but this  is about intimacy not sex, so he lets his hands stay to the outside of Kris’s legs as he lets his touch and his words wash over his sub.  Eventually Sid sees that Kris’s eyes have gone clear, and he knows they can move on to the next phase of their evening.

“Undress me.”

Kris has been still so long that he trembles as he begins to move, but Sid places a steadying hand on his arm and holds Kris until he’s stable.  Kris then sets about unbuttoning Sid’s shirt with nimble fingers, a twinkle returning to his eyes.   Next off is Sid’s belt and soon they are both naked.  It’s only then that Sid reels him in for the kiss he’s wanted all evening.  Kris whines and arches into the touch as Sid steers him to the bed, lowering him down gently.  Sid lays him out and begins to check to make sure the knots aren’t too tight.  The knots have pressed pinkness into Kris’s skin, warmth and blood pooling at every point, alive and here.  Sid kisses every mark as he kisses down Kris’s body, pressing a kitten lick of a kiss to the head of Kris’s cock before pressing his knees to his chest.

Kris whimpers, but let’s Sid manipulate him without protest.  Soon Sid has worked a lattice up Kris’s arms, rolling him over so he can tie his legs to them, pinning Kris into a fetal curl.  When Sid ties the last knot, Kris sags, letting the ropes cradle him.  Even though Sid is smaller than him, with Kris curled up like this he fits right against Sid’s chest as they spoon close.  Sid tucks a blanket over them, and they lie together in the silence, each soothing the other.

“I’m sorry,” Kris whispers, voice wet in their cocoon of warmth and stillness.

“Me too,” Sid replies, voice equally thick.  “Marc’s going to have words with me when he finds out how badly I’ve taken care of you.”  Kris gives a wet laugh and Sid tightens his arms around him.

“We’re gonna be okay?” Kris asks, voice a trembling whisper.

“Course we are.”  Sid rolls Kris over, tilting his head up for a lingering kiss, arousal and want coiling in his belly.  He unties Kris’s hands from his legs so Kris can stretch out, but then reties his arms snug to his chest.  He gives a sharp flick to each of Kris’s nipples, drawing a moan from the bigger man as Sid settled over him.  Sid could feel the way Kris’s cock plumps up against the crack of his ass.  Sid grinds down in a teasing little circle and Kris whimpers, trembling as he tries not to move too much.

“No more rules darling,” Sid soothes, running his hands over Kris’s chest.  “You’ve been so good for me and now I want you to feel good too after all that hard work.”  Kris whimpers and grinds up, prompting Sid to shift so their dicks slip together as they rock.  Sid doesn’t know which one of them is making noise as they come just moments apart, but it feels right, right the way nothing has felt since that last night with Flower, and Sid feels something firm and steady settle behind his breastbone.

Sid swears he can smell cologne and the tang of well loved goalie pads, and he smiles against Kris’s neck.


End file.
